


All the Greatest Loves Are the Unfinished Ones

by 1307



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-15 20:12:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3460433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1307/pseuds/1307
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically I had this idea for an AU where Venus is a musician and Tig is in love with her and along his way to meet her (or in this case, reunite) he runs into members of the MC and they help him.<br/>the title to this is from the Gold Motel song "Don't Send the Searchlights"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the bodacious bartender

Tig had been riding all night, it was what he did when things got bad. He had gone crawling back to Colleen for what seemed like the umpteenth time a week ago and now five days later it was over. 

He had no set destination in place, just ride until he felt like he was far enough away from the bullshit. It had been three years since he last saw Venus, since she told him that she couldn’t do it anymore. Well, honestly, she didn’t really tell him, she more wrote it on a post-it note and packed her shit while he was at work. 

He couldn’t really blame her; he was always drunk and sleeping around. She was an angel who only stayed because she was worried about what would happen if she did leave. Would Tig finally send himself over the edge? Would he sober up? 

But that was three years ago and now he was pulling into a bar just off the main highway in God knows where. As he parked his bike in the appropriate lot, he noticed a bunch of people huddled around outside, if he didn’t know better he’d think they were homeless, but considering the lack of a flaming garbage can and the suitable clothes they were wearing, he figured they were just waiting for someone or a taxi. 

As he made his way inside he squeezed his AA medallion that he had managed to make into a keychain so he always had it on him. Checking into AA was a choice he made after he woke up in an alley next to a dumpster with cum and vomit all over his shirt, his bike had been stolen, and everything in his wallet except his driver’s license was taken. On the scale of shitty things that had happened to him, this wasn’t even near the top (or bottom, whichever way you wanted to look at it), but this time he didn’t have Venus to come get him and tell him it would be okay. He was on his own and it was time to finally grow up and become a man. 

Tig looks up when he realizes he had somehow ended up at the bar, a force of habit that he didn’t think was ever going to go away. 

“What can I get you, hot stuff?” The bartender, a physically fit young thing with a fucking mohawk asks.

Tig is a little taken aback and stares at him.

“You are aware this is a gay bar, right?” The guy asks. 

“I actually have no idea where I am.” Tig responds truthfully. “I’ll have a coke.”

“Do you want rum or Jack or—”

“Just coke, please.” He forces the please, wanting this kid to shut up. 

“Sure thing.” He grabs a glass from under the bar. “You’re in the Castro District, by the way.”

“Who?”

“San Francisco.” He shrugs and tosses a coaster onto the bar.

“Fucking Christ.” Tig watches as the bartender squirts some coke into the glass, he glances at the bar top, the bright pink coaster catching his eye, he picks up the thin piece of cardboard and his breath catches as he sees Venus staring back at him from the pink background; _Venus van Dam—one night only!_ written in bright, hideous green. “Hey, mohawk.” 

The bartender sets the glass on the bar top. “It’s Juice.”

Tig sighs. “Hey, Juice.”

“What?”

“When is this Venus thing?” 

Juice picks up a coaster from his stack and looks at it. “I think it’s this weekend, actually.”

“Where at?”

Juice shrugs. “My boyfriend knows, he arranged the thing.”

“I need to know where it’s at. I know this girl.”

“Everyone knows Venus.” Juice smiles. “She does these really crazy piano re—”

“Remixes,” Tig cuts him off. “of classical works. I know. I used to endure them for hours on end.” 

“Um, my boyfriend, Filip, he owns the flower shop over on 18th.” Juice grabs a napkin from the stack. “I’ll give you the address, he knows more about it than I do.” 

“That’d be great, Juice.” Tig takes a drink of his coke and watches as Juice looks around the bar for a pen.


	2. The Glaswegian Gardener

Tig had an address and a general idea of where this goddamn florist shop was. He had stayed just outside the Castro District after leaving Juice the night before. Sure Juice had stupid hair and a presence that Tig could only describe as playful, but he’d be lying if he said the kid wasn’t a good listener. He let him talk for a couple hours about his love for Venus and how she was literally the only good thing in his life.

He didn’t know much about the Castro District, only what Juice had told him, that it was fucking _Gay_ , complete with a capital G, over exaggerated vowel, and high pitched y. GAY. And Tig thought that maybe Juice was exaggerating, but in the daylight Tig realized that Juice was actually being quite conservative with his description. 

\\\\\///

Just when Tig thought he had seen it all, he arrived at the flower shop, it was simply called _Filip’s Florals_ and had a rainbow flag made of out of flowers in one of the big bay windows in the front. Of course. Why did he expect anything else? He carefully pushed open the door which had a small, black _Come in! We’re Open!_ card on the front, the total opposite from the flower flag in the window. 

Tig pushes the door open and slips in, immediately being hit with the sound of Cher and the smell of a thousand different flowers. As if he didn’t already have a headache from all of the non-drinking he did last night. 

He made his way down the aisle that led from the door to the cash register where a guy about his height was getting a box off the shelf. He wasn’t sure if this was the man he was looking for—Filip—or if this was an employee. 

Tig watches as he gets the box and turns to look toward him. “Can I help ya?” He asks, his thick Scottish accent over powering Cher’s vocalizing. 

“You Filip?”

“Depends who is asking.” He slides the box to the side. “Who are you?”

“Tig.” He answers as he walks past the abundance of flowers, making his way to the counter. “Juice sent me.” 

Filip smiles. “Good kid, ain’t he?” 

Tig wasn’t sure what to say, so he nods instead. “Yeah, he’s great.”

“What he’d send you over here for?”

“Said you know more about that benefit Venus is playing.”

“Yeah, I set the thing up.” Filip nods. “Got a couple of tickets left.”

“Can I get one of those, man?” Tig asks. 

“Of course.” Filip crouches down to look in the shelves of the counter, moving things around. Tig looks around the store, he had never been in a florist shop before, whenever he got flowers for Venus he got them at the grocery store. 

“You make those crazy arrangements?”

There’s a stifled laugh from behind the counter. “You’re in a florist shop.”

“I meant you specifically.” 

“Yeah, sometimes.” Filip stands up. “My newest employee must’ve moved the box. Kid’s lucky he’s a family friend.”

Tig nods. “It’s alright, man. I’ve got all day.” 

“Kip!” The yell that comes from Filip’s mouth catches him off guard, making him perk up at the sound. “I’ve fuckin’ told ya not to move my stuff, ya little shit!” Filip walks into the room that was to the right of the counter, it had a beaded curtain so Tig couldn’t see in. Probably for the best, he thought, as he heard the conversation between the two. Apparently Kip was trying to eat his kale salad and Filip was ruining the energy in the room with his yelling. 

San Francisco was fucking weird. 

Filip appears a couple of minutes behind a thin kid with curly strawberry blond hair. “I told you I put it down here.” He sighs and crouches down. 

“I’m sorry about this, Tig. Some people don’t follow directions well.” Filip ruffles the curly hair before leaning against the counter. “You ever seen Venus live?” 

Tig nearly snorts because of course he had. “Yeah, man. I used to date her.”

“No shit?”

“No shit.” Tig takes out his wallet takes the small picture of the two of them on the beach and hands it over. “I can’t even remember when that was taken.” 

“Well shit.” Filip hands the photo back to him. “Why are you here then?”

“We had a pretty nasty break up.” Tig states as Kip stands up and hands Filip a box before mumbling about how he was going to go eat his kale in peace. “Wouldn’t forgive myself I didn’t try to get her back.”

\\\\\///

Tig had acquired not only a ticket for the benefit, but Filip had also talked him into ordering a fucking fancy ass flower arrangement to be sent to her dressing room. He was hoping it worked because he wasn’t sure what he was going to do if this all fell through. The chances of that happening were high, considering this whole experience was being held together with hope and that wasn’t exactly the most reassuring thing. 

Besides, he was fairly certain that Venus Hated him with a capital H. And, well, he deserved that. He was awful and didn’t deserve someone like her. It took him this long to figure out how crucial she was to his life and he wasn’t going down without a fight.


End file.
